


The Cafe At The Toll, or Upper Management Woes

by DarkMuses



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23921080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkMuses/pseuds/DarkMuses
Summary: This was written as a prompt for the Emet-Selch Book Club.Remind me to keep my Muses from turning into crack addicts and be distracted all the time... -_-
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Original Character(s), Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 1
Collections: May-U Fic Exchange 2020





	The Cafe At The Toll, or Upper Management Woes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Royalazuredeviator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Royalazuredeviator/gifts).



> This is a gift for Venefica_Austercraon. I hope she likes it ^^;

The Warrior Of Light Cafe & Bistro was one of those coffeehouses that chose to not fit the bill. From the riotous names for the drinks to the subdued lighting and almost fantastical décor, no one was at all surprised to meet the staff who were just as odd as the establishment. Strangely enough, the bistro and its odd assortment of employed characters were a hit in the growing border town of Revenant's Toll, having taken over an old warehouse on the main square within the first six months of opening to handle the influx of customers. The other restaurant, the Rising Stones, had been worried at first with the newest food competition, but the shadowy figure that was rumored to run the bistro made sure not to tread on their toes. Rowena's offerings off the main marketplace, on the other hand, was fair game.

On any given day, the bistro was a minimum pleasantly steady, leaving the crew to be rambunctious with each other and customers that they knew well. Even the small Lalafell that ran the register, Momojina, tolerated the occasional pats on the head and the coos about how adorable she was. Following the overall physical theme of the bistro, she had a small dragon's horde worth of costumes that she used as work clothes, all of them fantasy-oriented and each one of them unique. She was the de-facto shift manager for the days, and on this day, she found her eyes drawn to the newly-hired Elezen that was seated at a corner table.  
  
Slender as her people were wont to be, the new girl wasted no energy on excessive motion, and gazed fixedly at the employee manual for the various coffees. 'Boss-man wants to weed out the weak as fast as possible, and what better way than to learn the coffees and teas first?' Momojina had to stifle a snicker as she recalled the last one to be hired. They had quit within two hours, the recipes for the coffees and the need to memorize them having brought the Au Ra boy to tears. This one, though, this Venefica Austercraon... 'I don't think she's gonna run. Not with that serious of a look on her face.'

While the Lalafell kept an eye on her, the Elezen sat and studied. Excellent memory was one thing she prided herself on, although some of the things on the menu were a bit confusing. Coffee and nutmeg, she could see, she enjoyed that at home at least once a week, but an espresso with nutmeg and... She raised one fine blond eyebrow as she read the rest of the ingredients. 'And that doesn't kill you OR send you to the bathroom howling in pain? Huh. Whoever came up with some of these was either a genius, or a damn sadist.' Venefica took the hairband she kept on her wrist for just such occasions, and deftly tied her hair up into a full cascade of pale blond hair without taking her eyes off the handbook in front of her. 'By the looks of more than a few of these, I'm leaning towards sadist. How can half of these be drinkable?!'

Soldiering on was nothing new to her, having long before adapted to the kind of actions that got results even if she wasn't always so comfortable with the situation, and after another hour of memorizing the list of coffees and teas, she stood and handed the book back to the tall and rather handsome Elezen man that had attempted to flirt with her as soon as she entered for her interview the day before. Haurchefant she could tell was over the top and loved to play his self-labeled role of Heroic Leader Of The Wait Staff to the absolute hilt, and his looks definitely aided him there. She'd heard that there was an Elezen of impeccable looks and manners at the bistro, Venefica had to admit that he fit that bill perfectly, although his flirting she could tell was potentially going to be tiresome if she didn't figure out her role in the place. “So, do you believe you have what it takes to be an employee of the Warrior, my dear friend? It won't be an easy task, learning the ins and outs, but should you require any assistance at all, I am at your service, fair one!” He bowed elaborately while in full chain that he could still sneak up on a person wearing, and she rolled her eyes.

“If I need help, I can always ask Momojina, seeing as that's her territory. But, thanks.” She waved as she went back to the counter to pronounce herself ready for testing. To everyone's surprise but hers, she passed with flying colors.

* * *

Months went by. Seasons changed, or as much as the aether-induced gloom around Revenant's Toll allowed. The flow of people and product into and out of the town added to the heartbeat of the town itself. Inspectors flowed in, geologists and archaeologists and treasure hunters flooded the town, and the Warrior of Light Cafe & Bistro catered to each one without a break in their service. Chaos even erupted on the streets for a few of the earlier months from the rumors of a neighboring country's leader's murder, which proved to be untrue, and with a bit of caution the bistro remained open. Venefica found her place within the bistro, sometimes acting as a foil to Haurchefant's incessant teasing and flirting, sometimes ripping off puns so bad the customers had no choice but to laugh, usually leveled at one of her fellows. She had even dug out her old college robes and, with a bit of rework by Momojina, now had her image of a scholarly mage firmly in place. She had settled into the bistro's own heartbeat with little trouble at all.

“I still say the master of the place paid someone off a lot to keep those asses away from our place during that whole fracas out of Ul'Dah. The Twelve know that was a huge disaster that could have been much worse. And if not for all the rough-and-ready types that hang out around the Stones, they would have run into serious trouble as well. Ahh, the difference between people of some elegance and refinement versus the unwashed masses over yonder. One look from yours truly sent the blue-coated vagabonds running!”

Momojina effected the most haughty and arrogant stance she could imagine as she spoke, nearly catching the entire front line servers off-guard, providing them just enough time to choke on their laughter before her face became more serious. “And speaking of master... We old-timers knew this was coming, but not even we can ever say when until we receive notice, but...” Lifting her tiny hand to rub at a temple before continuing, Momojina paused just long enough to get their attention. “But. I received an email this morning from our owner, Emet-Selch, giving us just enough warning to make sure everything here is precisely as it should be, confirming he and his great-grandson would be visiting and doing an inspection.”

Venefica leaned closer to the oddly short but exceptionally well-muscled Hyur by her side, their head cook Hien, and tried to puzzle out what this meant. “So, the big guy and his great-grandson are coming. I've only heard rumor of the owner, and no one seems to know what he looks like. Although, if he's got a grandson and a great-grandson, that puts him at the damn old stage. Have you ever seen him before?”

Hien shook his head, the thick black ponytail he pulled his hair in before braiding it for his shift swaying with the motion. “No. Whenever he has come in the past, I have not been on duty. But to bring his great-grandson... That is a first. I have heard of the boy, and what I've heard is ill indeed. Rumors, mind, but if they are to be believed even a little, he is a vicious person, cruel to all who cross his path. I hope that the lady Momojina does not have me scheduled on the same days they are here.” He cast a glance to his taller companion. “I pray that you are not scheduled as well.”

“When the two of you are done gossiping like a couple of old hens, I would like to continue the briefing?” Both started and blinked, blushing a bit and hanging their heads in guilt. “As for scheduling, unfortunately, we are all going to be on duty during their stay. This is going to be a much longer timeframe than I've seen in the past, which is somewhat concerning.” The Lalafell pondered the situation, and Venefica suddenly realized her friend and supervisor had been preoccupied by the upcoming visit all morning, the little frown lines between her eyebrows back where until today they never stayed for long. “This may not just be a normal inspection visit. Our boss may be grooming his great-grandson to take this venture over. In the past, Emet-Selch's flitted in, made a few snarky comments to see who gets riled up, gets a chuckle, then flits back out. This time, he'll be here for a week.”

Both Hien and Venefica looked at Momojina with shock. “When can we expect them?” Haurchefant, as usual, asked the question on everyone's mind. Many eyes focused on him, then shifted to Momojina.

“Tomorrow morning. So get everything that isn't right, RIGHT. To work, everyone. We have a long day before us.”

* * *

Venefica rubbed at her eyes as she approached the front door the following morning, key slipped into her palm while she fought to get the morning pre-caffeine fuzz from her mind. 'Today's the day, huh? A week with a crotchety old man and his probably spoiled great-grandson breathing down our necks.' She reached the door and got it unlocked, pushing against the heavy glass door. “Gods above, I hope they don't scare off the customers...”

A voice from behind her, smooth and cultured with a hint of a smirk to the tone, had her freeze with the door half-open. “And who, pray, are they that you fear might... scare off the customers? I believe that was what you said?”

Slowly turning to face the voice, she found herself eye to eye with a man who, save for the shock of snow white in his deep auburn hair, could have been no older than thirty-five, and bore the third eye of the people of Garlemald on his brow. Next to and slightly behind him stood a monster of a man, younger by several years but who didn't appear to be much older than herself, with long, golden hair left free from restraint, who also bore the third eye. She blanched as she noted idly that one pair of gold eyes were assessing her, clearly amused but with dangerous deep gold glints in their depths, the other with pale blue like the sky after a rainstorm and an almost predatory gleam. “Ahhh, n-no one of import, just some local toughs we've had to deal with the past week! Can I.. help you? We don't open for another half-hour.”

“Well, seeing as neither your shift manager nor store manager are here yet, would it be too much trouble to expect you would let us in now? After all,” the older Garlean's voice almost purred, sending a shiver down her spine, “it's never in anyone's best interest to keep the one who signs the paychecks on the curb. Wouldn't you agree?”

'CRAP! That's HIM?! Oh Gods, not good!' “Of course! Let me just get the lights on and you can find a seat!” Venefica nearly tripped over her robes as she scrambled to the back room to begin powering up the bistro for the day, cursing herself out over and over in her head while the one she had to assume was Emet-Selch wore a smirk that seemed to grow with each passing internalized cussing-out. His grandson simply watched, unblinking, with a matching smirk as if sizing her up for a late-night snack. With how massive he was, she'd be an hor d'oeuvre, and not a filling one at that! He made the hair on the back of her neck want to stand up, long-held knowledge assuring her that both were threats, but the younger blond was the more direct if he so chose.  
  
'Please don't choose to be!'

* * *

Over the next week the two men made a habit of ghosting in and out at the most inopportune times when they weren't handling meetings and the great-grandson, Zenos yae Galvus, wasn't being taught the finer points of management. Or at least trying to teach him.  
  
Zenos was absolutely fixated on the Elezen, who did her best to not be in the same area as him alone. It didn't help that when he did speak, which was a rarity, his voice had the same smooth quality as his great-grandfather's, although where Emet-Selch's voice was like velvet hiding a weapon behind it, Zenos' voice was more like an aged whiskey, a sharp bite masked by the smoky drink.

And he got to her, oh he did. Venefica's days and nights were filled with his presence. Of all of her coworkers, his attention was only for her. He barely acknowledged any others, maybe a quick narrowed glare or a lift of his lip as if in a snarl to any who would dare take his attention away from the Elezen. He found excuses or simply decided to forgo them to be near her at all times when he was in the bistro, and only twisted his lips into the all-too-familiar smirk when she tried to get him to go away. Pleas, bribes, anything she could think of to get some of her personal space back, nothing worked and his encroachment only increased. And at night, even after punching out and heading straight home, his aura seemed to permeate the very air and aether around her, troubling her sleep with restless images she didn't want to pay closer attention to.

With two days left of the visit, Venefica breathed a sigh of relief. 'Today and tomorrow, then they go back to Garlemald, or wherever they came from. Thank the Twelve that Momojina saw fit to give me the day off! I could use it after this week!' Soaking in the tub to ease some of the stress in her muscles, she didn't notice when she slipped into a trance, or that it was not coming from within her own mind.

“There you are, my enemy. My friend. My prey.”

She started suddenly, looking around while the cold edge of fear began to play at her nerves. No longer in her bathroom, or in any room that she could identify, and dressed in antiquated mage robes that fitted her closely, all she could see around her was black. “What the hell?! Zenos, is there something wrong with you that you'd be stalking me like this?!”

“Mmmm, some would say there is. Rather, most would. Everyone would, quite possibly even my great-grandfather as well. I say that there is nothing wrong with me. I simply see the world and its lesser beings as they are to be seen: the lesser feeding the strong with their deaths. But you, my dear friend,” that huge body stepped behind her from the darkness and looming before wrapping his arms around her shoulders to pin her arms to her sides, “you are an anomaly. Emet-Selch agrees with me, although in what manner is unknown. You avoid me yet you don't back down from me. It's rather endearing. You, the small cosseted lapdog barking at the direwolf, without any realization that you are no match for me. This only increases my interest in you. I must know what this is, what drives you to challenge a superior beast. Shall we find out together? My little... beastie?”

Panic had her frozen as he spoke. Even the strength of his restraint on her was momentarily ignored as his sheer presence overwhelmed her. How was this happening? This was impossible! But, if it was impossible yet still happening, then... what about...

“FIRE!”

With that word, her body was engulfed in flame that did her no harm but engulfed Zenos, forcing him to back away with a curse. Venefica spun around to face him, glaring with a rage that only seemed to fuel his mirth as he waved a hand, putting out the flames that had been licking fitfully at his own vastly overblown armor. “Oh yes, my beastie, this shall prove to be most amusing. You may even be worthy of my attentions.”

“Bring it, you overblown peacock!”

The fight began in true earnest, with neither side willing to give an ilm of ground to the other.

* * *

“Well, save for my heir's obvious distraction, this visit has gone off rather well. Wouldn't you agree, Momojina my dear?” Emet-Selch wore his usual lazy smirk as his great-grandson sauntered in with a grin that made the workers present cower. Even Haurchefant and Estinien, his ever-present childhood friend, instictively took on more guarded stances as if expecting a fight at any second.

Momojina shook her head and tsked at the blond. “Oh would you stop terrorizing my workers? If you are so intent on taking over this bistro, you had best learn manners and how to handle people, or it will fail fast.” She glanced around, one of her morning crew was missing. “Has anyone seen Vene- oh, there she is!”

If looks could kill, the glare clearly plastered on the Elezen's face would have put anyone six feet under to meet Nald'Thal, although it only made Emet-Selch laugh and his great-grandson blow a kiss her way, which shocked the entire bistro, guests included, into utter silence. “Shove it, Zenos. Next time you try that damn trick, I will hand you your ass.” The Lalafell's sharp eyes did not miss the slight coloring of Venefica's cheeks, though.

“I look forward to it, my beastie. And until you can somehow defeat me, you are mine to play with. Do not forget that. It would be a shame to have to remind you. Pleasurable, but a shame.”

The sound of jaws hitting the floor she swore could be heard all the way to Gridania. “Next time, bring your A-game.”


End file.
